


2. Pokèmon AU

by meltypes



Series: McHanzo PeaPod Week 2K19 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pokemon AU, really indulgent but i love pokemon so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 15:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meltypes/pseuds/meltypes
Summary: He was getting ready to challenge the Elite Four, studying their previous battles and Pokèmon, curating an almost unbeatable team in preparation. The appearance of the Champion and their team, as everyone knew, remained secret and for those who made it that far (which, the numbers of could be counted on one hand) and beyond (which practically never happened) showed the common courtesy of not letting a single detail slip. This anonymity fed into his anxiety, was almost ruinous to Hanzo’s party building skills, and at the time of the letter’s arrival, he was still missing a single Pokèmon for his belt. Suffice to say, Hanzo was pretty much at a crossroads at his life and was stressed to Kanto and back.





	2. Pokèmon AU

**Author's Note:**

> GOD i loved this AU since i first saw cuteskitty's fan art of it and i. wow. just went crazy. enjoy!

Hanzo was, what some might call in the bigger towns and cities in the Hanamura Region, a highly unusual case. Most trainers left their houses at age 10 or 11, met up with a certified Pokèmon professor for a digitized logging codex, and jaunted merrily from town to town, training their Pokèmon until they became Rangers, Pageant Winners, Medical professionals, or whatever occupation they fell into after a couple of years of adventuring. And while most jobs were completely respectable occupations, Hanzo knew most children originally desire to become one of three things: a Gym Leader, one of the Elite Four, or- the most sought after of all- the Mysteriously Legendary Champion. Hanzo knew this was what all young trainers strived for, because he used to be one of them.

At the vehement insistence of his family, Hanzo trained since he could walk in the different strategies of Pokèmon battle. What types dominated over others, how to care for your Pokèmon after a particularly grueling match, how to use their moves to your advantage to guarantee success. It was clinical and methodical, the way the Shimada’s taught both Hanzo and Genji, to  _ use _ their Pokèmon rather than to work together with them. The Shimada’s kept a subtle stranglehold on the brothers, promising them both the title of Champion if they worked just a bit harder, trained a little longer, studied battle after battle a little more closely. Hanzo spent countless hours listening- and it cost him his childhood. Most kids left the house at 10 or 11. Hanzo left at age 17. 

Genji….Genji was lucky. Their father had poured enough strict teaching and private tutoring into Hanzo that by the time Genji had turned 12, Sojiro had decided one deluded dedicated son was enough to bring glory to the Shimada name. He let Genji go, and go he did, to never return. Well- to say that he never did would be inaccurate. Genji had come back once, aged 13, proud and happy, to show Hanzo a completed Pokèdex. 

“How does it make you win?”

Genji’s smile faltered. “Win?”

Hanzo raised a brow. “Does it enhance their movements? Show enemy weakness?”

“In a way,” Genji said slowly. “It’s mainly for cataloguing what Pokèmon you find! It’s so cool, yesterday I saw a-”

“I do not care. What is the point if it does not help in battle?” Hanzo said coldly. 

Genji gave his brother an incredulous look and stared. Then his face crumpled.

“Hanzo, please- come with me. It is so much different out there- it’s- there’s more to this than winning.”

Hanzo scoffed, bitter at his brother and not yet ready to accept the truth. He repeated to Genji what he’d heard the elders say countless times:

“I must stay here, as is my duty. One of us needs to not be the family disappointment.” 

Genji never came back after that. 

On Hanzo’s 17th birthday, however, he found a letter addressed to him in familiar writing. It was around this time that Hanzo began to realize just how fucked up his entire situation was, how little he cared about winning anymore, yet still strove for it because it was all he knew. He had conquered every single gym in the region, and the one over, and the one next to that one. The name “Shimada” was featured in the news constantly, and Hanzo started using just his first name in casual battles to avoid fleeing trainers or news people. His father and the elders were proud and truthfully, it made Hanzo feel all the more worse. 

He was getting ready to challenge the Elite Four, studying their previous battles and Pokèmon, curating an almost unbeatable team in preparation. The appearance of the Champion and their team, as everyone knew, remained secret and for those who made it that far (which, the numbers of could be counted on one hand) and beyond (which practically never happened) showed the common courtesy of not letting a single detail slip. This anonymity fed into his anxiety, was almost ruinous to Hanzo’s party building skills, and at the time of the letter’s arrival, he was still missing a single Pokèmon for his belt. Suffice to say, Hanzo was pretty much at a crossroads at his life and was stressed to Kanto and back. He hoped, secretly, that his brother’s letter would give him some wise advice to help him win; Hanzo knew he was happy, there must have been some secret Genji found that he didn’t yet know of. But the letter read as this:

 

_ Hanzo,  _

_ Happy Birthday! It has been a long time, and I’m sorry. Don’t feel guilty about not writing to me either. I forgive you, for everything.  _

_ Mom writes to me though, and has recently told me that you are going to battle the Elite Four and the Champion soon. Wow! Dad did spend a lot of money on you though so I guess that is where you would naturally end up. Good for you! (I honestly don’t mean to make this letter sound as sarcastic as it does.) _

_ Mom also tells me she’s worried about you. It makes me worried about you too, Hanzo. Are you okay? Mom says the bags under your eyes are almost as heavy as a Snorlax! I hope you are at least getting enough sleep. Stop watching those cooking programs you like so much after studying. I’m sure mom tells you that enough, but maybe a second mouth will get it across…. _

_ I don’t know if you would care to know, but I have been doing good. A peace task force called Overwatch has recently asked me to join them, and I think that I will! With that pesky Talon on the rise bothering people, I feel it will be a good use of my time. Perhaps after you win the title, you could spend some time helping us! _

_ I hope you and dad are doing well, and that you find time to read this. I have not forgotten about you, my only brother, and I never will. I miss you dearly. I miss home and the gardens and the pond of Magikarp that we used to throw bread in, then got yelled at for. Ah, good times. _

_ Speaking of that, you should check your PC. I sent you a gift. She is the very first Pokèmon I ever caught after I left, and she holds a deep place in my heart, as you do. She is kind, and thoughtful, and wise, just as I know you are. I hope you get along.  _

_ I love you brother, and Happy Birthday again,  _

_ Genji _

 

Hanzo’s first thought was of the Pokèmon his brother sent. If Genji had had it for so long, and it was that dear to him….

He raced to his PC, logged in, fingers trembling in anticipation- and blinked at what showed up on the transfer screen. 

The red fins and wispy whiskers were unmistakable to any person, trainer or not.

A Magikarp. 

He sent Hanzo a fucking Magikarp. 

Hanzo stared at the screen before he turned away. 

A hysterical laugh bubbled it’s way out of Hanzo’s throat- and then a terrible gasp. His eyes welled and spilled over, hot tears tracking down his face. He choked on another unrelenting sob, covered his mouth to keep them in, shame at himself and what he had become curling and weighing heavy in him. His estranged, caring brother had lovingly hand-written him a letter in an age where people communicated through holograph, sent him his most precious Pokèmon- and still Hanzo’s thoughts were fixated on winning, and battle, and personal gain. 

Enough was enough. 

So, Hanzo prepared. He took the Magikarp into his party, almost laughing at the irony when his father whispered to him that the Champion’s party apparently consisted of fire, ground, and steel types. Hanzo didn’t want to know where he got the information, just like every other time his father gave him “tips.”

The first two of the Elite Four were easy enough. A blonde man in blue with normal types whose motto was, “Old Trainers never quit.” The second, a man in dark clothing with ghost and dark types whose Pokèmon creepily yelled “Die!” with each attack. But the third was a woman with a tattoo on her face, whose prowess and keen eye for battle equally matched Hanzo’s, and Hanzo decided she was the first trainer he would ever lose to. He winced as each of his Pokèmon fell, the feel of guilt strong and new to him, and he sent them each a silent apology. He held his last ball in his hand, and was about to throw, when she stopped him with a question. 

“Why are you here?”

Hanzo slowly dropped his arm and looked to her. The words were loud and echoed off the high ceilings of the empty arena, and Hanzo felt small. She stood patiently, she and her Decidueye staring at him, and raised a brow. She wasn’t going to repeat herself. 

Hanzo swallowed. “I….” 

He looked down at the ball in his hands, thought of his brother, and spoke truthfully. 

“I do not know. I don’t want to be.”

Elite Four Ana sighed. “You are aware you cannot flee from this battle, my child.”

Hanzo nodded and held the ball tenderly, saying another silent apology to Genji’s Magikarp. 

“But….”

Hanzo looked back up to see the small smile on her face. 

She tilted her head. “I think you and I both know that sometimes breaking rules is necessary.”

Hanzo had left significantly happy, never defeating the Elite Four, never glimpsing the Champion, and- technically- never having lost a battle. He spent the next few years reconnecting with Genji, disconnecting from the family, and adventuring as he should’ve as a child. His bonds with his Pokèmon had grown stronger than ever, but rare were the occasions that he engaged in battle. After treating his friends the way he did, he was hesitant to put them through anymore strain, and thus, declined Genji’s offer to join the peace force. Instead, he settled on an enormous private piece of land he bought himself (never losing a battle had its perks) and built a small villa dedicated to taking in abused Pokèmon. 

So finds Hanzo in the present: age 38, happily tending to his garden as his Roselia sprinkles pollen on the flowers, waiting patiently for the man in red to come back around, as he always did at this time. 

The man in red had been a….pleasant deviation from his routine. It started a year ago, when he had rushed into Hanzo’s villa with a shivering baby Ponyta in his arms, desperate and shaken. He still hadn’t told Hanzo what happened exactly, and Hanzo never pried. After he was assured the poor thing would be okay, Hanzo let him stay the night. And the next night. And the night after that. Really, Hanzo never told him to leave, because the man was charming and handsome, and hit every single check-box on the list that constituted Hanzo’s type if ever there was one. What irked Hanzo, however, was the fact that the man hadn’t given him a name.

“You can call me ‘Sweetie’ if you like,” he had grinned one morning over breakfast, effectively warming Hanzo’s face and causing him to sputter. 

“I’ll be the Spice to your Sugar,” punctuated with a wink in the shade of the gardens, another damaging blow to Hanzo’s heart. 

“How’s about you can call me anytime?” This one, Hanzo let out a laugh at, doubling the size of the stranger’s grin and making him turn as red as his flannel for a change. 

Hanzo enjoyed the flirting thoroughly, feeling warm and content in the man’s presence, flustered but never overwhelmed at his words. The stranger visited at least thrice a week since his first arrival, and Hanzo looked forward to every moment. A splash in the large pond next to Hanzo pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see the man in red behind him, frowning at the Magikarp that poked its head at him. 

“Don’t know why you’ve always gotta tattle on me, Aka. Defeats the whole purpose of a surprise.”

Hanzo stood up and brushed his hands on his apron, smiling, the warmth in him growing. 

“Do not blame her for your lack of subtlety,” Hanzo teased. “You could not properly sneak if you tried.”

The stranger chuckled. “You’d be surprised. I can be quiet when I want to be.”

“I am sure the spurs and hat give you an agility bonus then?” Hanzo grinned slyly and flicked the brim of his hat up as he walked by, heading for the villa’s kitchen. The stranger sputtered behind him. 

“Don’t disrespect the hat!”

They sat in the kitchen and talked, mugs of warm coffee in their hands, cooks and chefs behind them baking poffins and human food for the guests and recovering Pokèmon. 

“So, there’s a reason ‘m here today, actually,” Honey (as the stranger told Hanzo to call him) said. “I got a favor.”

Hanzo tilted his head to the side. “What do you need?”

“We found more, a little outside of the Hanamura district. Abandoned, I think. Or dumped. ‘S a bunch of Magikarp and Goldeen, so I hope Aka is fine with sharing her pool.” 

“She will share,” Hanzo decided. “When will they arrive?”

“Sometime this afternoon.” Honey looked into his mug, brows furrowed. “I just….I don’t know how someone can just dump them out like that.”

Hanzo hummed sympathetically. “People do not appreciate what they have until it is gone, and those in privilege take advantage of what they can. It is sad.”

Honey looked up at that, a strange expression on his face, as though he just discovered Hanzo existed, and stared. 

Hanzo flushed under the scrutiny. “I….speak from experience.”

“You’re a good man, you know that?” Honey spoke suddenly. “I like doing this- talking with you, getting to know you. I-”

For the first time since Hanzo met him, the man was speechless. The stranger let out a frustrated breath, opened his mouth, closed it. Hanzo waited. 

He knew that the man had secrets he couldn’t tell him- how he found the Pokèmon he brought to the villa since he discovered it, his true occupation (Hanzo didn’t believe for a second that this man was a farmer), his name. But the retired trainer’s life had been rigid since youth, so fundamentally routine and planned, that he now welcomed uncertainty and mystery. 

Especially when it came in the form of an attractive cowboy. 

When it turned out that Honey wasn’t going to say anything more, Hanzo stood and grabbed their mugs. He tilted his head to the garden silently and both men made their way back out. They took a long walk around, talking about everything and nothing, until the sun was high in the sky. Aka poked her head up once again when they strolled to the edge of the enormous pond and Hanzo bent to pet her. She cooed softly as his touch, shaking some water on him and the cowboy, much to Hanzo’s delight. 

“How would you like some friends here with you, Aka? Do you think the others in there will be fine with it?”

Aka chirped merrily, splashing, more water falling onto her owner. Hanzo smiled, turning to the man behind him, and was surprised to find him already staring at his face. Hanzo flushed and stood up, Honey’s eyes never leaving his. 

“I do not think she will mind,” Hanzo said, suddenly realizing how close they were. Hanzo’s shoulder brushed against Honey’s chest as the stranger turned to face him fully.  

“Okay,” Honey smiled softly. He lifted a thumb to Hanzo’s face, wiping a drop of water that was falling down his cheek. Then, his hand traced his jaw, and moved slowly back up to tuck Hanzo’s bang behind his ear. 

Hanzo’s breath stuttered and he could do little more than watch as Honey gently gripped the back of his neck and drew in closer, and closer. Hanzo closed his eyes at the feel of his nose against Honey’s cheek, and their lips softly brushed-

SPLASH!

Hanzo gasped and jerked away as a cascade of water suddenly dropped onto the two of them, dowsing them thoroughly. A cacophony of Pokèmon calls and coos were coming from the water. The stranger cursed and looked up to the sky as Hanzo looked down, watching as the new additions to the pond swam around happily. Aka’s eyes were crinkled in mirth and Hanzo got the impression she was laughing.

“You son of a bitch!” Honey yelled at the sky breathless, and Hanzo finally turned his head upwards. 

A giant dropship with an equally huge, empty glass tank attached to the bottom hovered above the enormous pond. The only sounds for a while were the quiet hum of the vehicle, the loud splashing and songs of the Pokèmon, and Hanzo and Honey’s quiet breathing, until- 

“McCree.” a familiar voice scratched out of the carriers speakers. 

Silence again.

Then-

“Are you fucking my brother?”

Hanzo face and ears flamed as Honey- McCree- took to yelling back and the green haired bastard just cackled loudly until it was cut off. 

As the ship landed with the tank pulled into the bottom, and the occupants made their way to the pair, Hanzo realized three things in horrific progression: 

  1. The Man was in Overwatch
  2. The Man’s name was McCree



And the third and most surprising realization was, that despite those of the region conveniently not recognizing the Champion’s appearance, their name was common knowledge. 

Jesse McCree. Hanamura District Champion for 22 years. 

When Genji made his way to them, he had a shit eating grin on his face. Hanzo wondered if it was possible for Aka to learn hyper beam in the next five seconds. 

“I am glad to see you two already know each other,” he said, raising his brows annoyingly. 

McCree gave a strained smile and emptied the water in his hat on Genji’s shoes. “Give a fella a warning next time, would you?”

“Rude,” Genji pouted, looking at his soaked footwear. He turned to Hanzo. “It is good to see you, brother. But, really, what’s up with-”

“You are the Champion then?” Hanzo turned to McCree, ignoring Genji and instantly regretting that he blurted the first thing on his mind. 

Jesse flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I guess….”

“Wait, you didn’t tell him?” Genji asked. His eyes shifted between the two of them. “Hanzo, you didn’t know?”

Hanzo’s mouth betrayed him again. “Up until three minutes ago, his name was Honey.”

Genji choked and Jesse had the decency to look a little chastised. 

After the excitement and reunions had ended (Ana was on that mission and lovingly gave Hanzo’s cheeks a pinch), Jesse and Hanzo walked along the edge of the pond. It was a little after sunset and the first layer of stars were peeking through the sky. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you.” Jesse bit his lip. “I mean- I tried, today, because I knew your brother was going to end up here, but I….I didn’t know how to say it.” 

“You knew who I was,” Hanzo spoke softly. 

“Yeah.” McCree turned to face him fully again, their shoulders brushing. “Who doesn’t know you, though? Shimada Hanzo, young prodigy who fell off the face of the earth after making it to the Elite Four, never heard from again in the district. Your story makes for a good mystery novel.”

Hanzo grimaced. “I am not that person anymore.”

“I know. You aren’t.” 

Hanzo looked at Jesse, surprised at the passion in his voice. 

Jesse gazed into his eyes. “I heard a lot about you, back then. How ruthless you were, to trainers and Pokèmon, how you’d never lost a single match.”

Hanzo trembled a little at the reminder. 

“There were rumors that you’d been groomed to be the perfect battle strategist and I was scared shitless to tussle with you. I mean, it had only been a year since I’d grabbed the title from Reyes, and it’s not easy. Then….well, heard some things about how you treated your own kin, got a bit upset, and couldn’t actually wait to kick your ass.”

Jesse chuckled, and Hanzo felt his stomach drop. Right. So this is what heartbreak felt like. Hanzo moved to step away, but McCree stopped him, drew him closer, a hand on his arm. 

“But one day,” he continued, hand sliding up slowly yet again,”Ana shows up and tells me that I wouldn't have to worry. That the ruthless Shimada boy threw the battle, and was actually just a bit sad and a whole lotta lost. To be honest….”

Jesse’s hands found their way in the same places as before, one hand gently brushing his bang and the other on the back of his neck. 

“To be honest, I’m glad I found you.”

Hanzo surged upward, hands grabbing at McCree’s shoulders, lips pressing firmly against the other man’s. He sighed when McCree softened it, their heads tilting to the right angle, deepening the kiss. They moved slowly, Hanzo’s insides turning into a mixture of warm syrup and molten lava as they parted, only to move together again, and again, warm mouths and tongues sliding. Jesse broke it off, only to press his lips to the side of Hanzo’s warm face, on his jaw, down his neck. Hanzo could only hold on as Jesse nipped softly at his ear, then under, and he shuddered. 

They came together again, until the sky darkened completely, and Jesse placed a final closed mouth kiss on Hanzo’s swollen lips. Hanzo buried his face into Jesse’s neck, arms going around his shoulders, and the other man rubbed his hand down Hanzo’s back. 

“So,” McCree rumbled. “Didn’t mean to get carried away like that, but ‘s my roundabout way of saying that I don’t care about your past, and that I actually might be a little in love with you.”

Hanzo inhaled deeply, breathless at Jesse’s candor. 

“So you do not want to fight me anymore?”

Hanzo mentally slapped himself as he felt McCree’s body shake with laughter. 

Jesse pulled back to look at him. “I mean, we could battle, but it’d be a little weird for an official first date.”

“So we are dating?” Hanzo wondered when his foot was going to vacate his mouth. 

Jesse just smiled softly, touching his hair again. “If you’d like. I don’t kiss everyone like that, y’know.”

“Okay,” Hanzo said. “Good. Because I think I am in love with you too.”

Jesse’s grin was almost big enough to split his face, and he pulled Hanzo back in, resting their foreheads together. 

The morning after, Hanzo found a note from Genji taped to his bedroom door. He took it back to his bed to read. 

 

_ Hanzo,  _

_ Thank you for being accommodating, I know it was last minute. This place is….it’s good, Hanzo. I am proud of you. We had to leave a little earlier than planned, but I couldn’t find Jesse and wasn’t going to check on you to get him back to avoid mental scarring, so you’re welcome.  _

_ Make sure to use protection! _

_ Also, PS: Get that Everstone off of Aka, you idiot. She’s had it on for 27 years and I think she’d like to evolve.  _

_ PPS: I love you and will see you soon.  _

_ Genji  _

 

“Holy shit,” Hanzo breathed, and Jesse shifted in the sheets next to him, lifting himself up. He hummed in question, still sleepy, resting his forehead on Hanzo’s bare shoulder.

Hanzo laughed softly, eyes watering. “I’ve had a Gyarados in a Magikarp’s body all this time.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @meltypes


End file.
